


You're Due for Some Good

by PrincexofxFlowers



Series: Bruises Like Blankets to Keep Us Warm [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cancer, F/M, Fluff, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, POV Keith (Voltron), nobody dies i promise, rated for language, supportive allura, supportive shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 14:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10466682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincexofxFlowers/pseuds/PrincexofxFlowers
Summary: They get the odd scrape or bruise, they stub their toes at least once a month, and sometimes they get burns on their fingers, but, honestly, who doesn’t do that? They’re not clumsy and, so far, they really haven’t had any major injuries.As far as soulmates go, Keith thinks, he really can’t complain.And then the bruises start showing up.---Soulmate AU where your injuries show up on your soulmate and their's show up on you.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Back at it again with the 2 am posting
> 
> I really love soulmate AUs but this is my first time writing one. 
> 
> There's a lot I could say about this one but I really can't think of how to word it.
> 
> I had to listen to aggressively happy music while writing this so I didn't start bawling but you might not have that problem. Just a warning though.

Keith is six years old when he notices a bruise on his leg that he can’t remember getting. He brushes it off until a week later when he notices faint lines on his knee. They look like a scratch almost healed but he hasn’t hurt his knee recently. He brings it up to his parents and they share a glance before suggesting that maybe he had bumped into something without noticing. The excuse placates him for another two weeks but one evening when he’s in the bath he sees a bruise slowly forming on his arm, right before his eyes, and he loses it.

“Mom! Dad! It’s happening! I saw it this time!”

His parents come rushing into the bathroom and he points enthusiastically at the bruise that shouldn’t be there. They share that look again and his mother smiles softly and kneels next to the tub while his father leans against the counter. They tell him about soulmates.

“This is a good thing, Keith,” his mom brushes some hair out of his face, stopping some soap from falling into his eyes. “This means that somewhere out there, there’s another person waiting to meet you.”

Keith isn’t sure he understands.

“That’s your soulmate, buddy,” his dad smiles. “There’s someone out there that you’re meant to be with. And every time one of you gets hurt it shows up on the other person.”

“That’s why you didn’t remember getting that scrape. It wasn’t yours.”

“Oh… But I didn’t randomly start bleeding,” he’s still a little confused but his parents are patient as they explain that the exact injury doesn’t appear, just a faint shadow of it. The bruises are a little smaller, the scrapes don’t actually bleed. Any scars they get only show up faintly on the other person and Keith finds himself feeling sympathetic for the mystery bruise on his arm. It was still pretty big.

After that Keith enthusiastically checks for bruises that aren’t his every day. When he finds one he shows it to his parents and together they make up stories about what they could be from. Most of them are pretty normal- scraped knees, stubbed toes. One time there’s a bruise on his chin, scrapes on his hands and knees and his lip is a little swollen for a few hours and his parents are quick to supply ‘bike wreck’ to their worried son. 

From then on Keith keeps track of his own injuries, writes down the day and why they happened, just in case his soulmate ever wants to ask him what they’re from. When his parents find out they get him a fancy notebook with refillable pages so it’s easier to keep track of and they help him with spelling and writing out the stories that are too long.

February 7th- 6 years old. Scraped my knee falling off my bike.

February 8th- 6 years old. Scraped my other knee falling off my bike.

February 9th- 6 years old. Scraped my elbow falling off my bike. Grounded from bike.  
-He’s grounded because he snuck into the back yard after bed time to practice- Keith’s dad.

May 27th- 6 years old. Scratch on left arm. Made the stray cat mad.

August 17th- 7 years old. Keith slipped and hit his head at the pool. We took him to the doctor and they said he’s okay but he’s got a pretty big bump and it’ll be sore for a while- Keith’s mom.

November 3rd- 7 years old. Paper cut from art class. We were making paper turkeys.

January 2nd- 7 years old. Sprained my ankle first time ice skating. Can you ice skate?

Of course there had been more bruises and injuries, and lots of them weren’t his. Occasionally he writes down questions that he knows his soulmate probably won’t remember but he asks them anyway.

October 4th. I’m 8 years old, no clue how old you are, but this is like the fourth time you’ve stubbed a toe this week. Do you wear shoes??

December 28th- 8 years old. I have a giant bruise on my back?? What did you do???

July 13th- 9 years old. Did you seriously burn both of your hands? How do you even manage that?

And after that the bad things happen.

Sept. 8- 9. Car wreck.

The words are poorly written, unsteady and barely legible between his broken arm and the fact that he’s shaking so badly it’s a miracle he hasn’t dislodged the needle in his good arm. The last few days are a blur, cutting off at the sight of a semi barreling towards him through the car window, the squealing of tires on wet asphalt almost drowning out his dad swearing and his mom screaming.

He doesn’t feel like going into anymore detail than that, couldn’t even if he wanted to. Usually he’d ask his parents to write it for him but they’re-

He doesn’t want the nurses to do it for him.

The entries after that are short and abrupt.

Jan. 17th- 9. Got punched.

Jan. 20th- 9. Got punched again. 

Jan. 22nd- 9. Got punched. Again. Punched back this time.

Jan. 22nd- 9. Belt. Got in trouble for punching back.

His time in foster care is long and unpleasant. His ‘letters’ to his soulmate are very toned down explanations for his injuries, no detail, no reasons. Just short statements of fact. 

And throughout this he still checks for bruises that aren’t his. They get less frequent as he gets older, as they both get older, but they’re a comfort. The only constant he has left in his life and at night when he knows he’s alone, he traces over them lightly to remind himself that somewhere out there, there’s a person who wants him.

He’s twelve when his soul mate does something strange. He’s hiding in his room after a fight, going over his own injuries when he notices it. On the inside of his wrist there’s a strange bruise, curved and wide at one end and narrow and pointed at the other. It’s an oddly shaped bruise and Keith stares at it trying to figure out what on Earth his soulmate could have done to get it. He’s reaching for his notebook to write his question down, the first question he’s asked in a very long time, when, slowly, the rest of the bruise fades into existence on his arm.

A heart. There’s a heart shaped bruise on his arm, small and deliberate and Keith smiles for what feels like the first time in years. He grabs his notebook and writes.

June 4th- 12 years old. Thank you.

He draws a little heart next to it and closes the book. He lightly traces over the bruise after that- When he’s trying to sleep, when he’s on edge, when he feels sad. He knows eventually it’ll heal but the fact that it was ever there at all helps him more than he can put into words.

He’s thirteen when he gets adopted by the Shiroganes. It takes him a while but eventually he gradually lets his guard down around them. They’re good people and even Keith can tell they genuinely care about him.

They have a son already, older than Keith, and something about him is inherently calming. Keith likes him. Shiro immediately likes him too and, while it’s a little overwhelming at first, it’s something Keith appreciates.

He’s fourteen the first time he talks about his soulmate with him.

“Keith, where did you get that huge bruise from?” Shiro sounds slightly horrified and Keith looks down at his arm to see that he does indeed have a rather large bruise covering most of his bicep.

“Huh. I didn’t even notice that one.”

“How do you not notice hitting your arm hard enough to get that??”

Keith shrugs. “It’s not mine.” Shiro looks a bit doubtful so Keith elaborates. “It’s my soulmate’s.” He feels a bit weird talking about them. He hasn’t talked about his soul mate since…

“How can you tell?”

“What?”

“If you didn’t notice it show up, how can you tell?”

“I just… can? Can you not?”

Shiro shakes his head. “Unless it’s really obviously not an injury I could have gotten, if I don’t see it show up I can’t tell. I don’t think most people can.”

“Oh… it just… looks different, I guess.”

“Huh. That’s really cool, Keith.” The smile on Shiro’s face is so honest, so free of judgement that Keith smiles back and he feels something loosening in his chest.

He doesn’t tell Shiro about his notebook but if his soulmate gets a particularly weird injury he’ll make some offhanded remark to him, usually some form of good natured mockery. 

And so the years go on. Keith is happy and the occasional injury that isn’t his is a pleasant reminder that his soulmate, while apparently mildly in pain, is alive and well. They’ve traded scars, Keith knows he’s given them some from the car crash alone, not even touching on any of his other misadventures, but he’s got a few from them as well.

He’s always wanted to meet them but it’s not until Shiro finally finds his own soulmate at age twenty-five that he realizes that he’s getting impatient. He’s eighteen now and he’s waited twelve years for them. 

Shiro notices right away, in the midst of celebrating with their family. He plops next to him on the couch, stranding Allura with their parents for a few moments and Keith would feel sympathetic except she looks completely at ease and he’s much more concerned with the ‘I-know-what-you’re-thinking’ look Shiro’s giving him.

“Hey, no worries. They’re out there, I promise. You’ll find them.”

Keith tries not to look doubtful but it must not work because Shiro rolls his eyes and points to a small almost-scrape that’s on the knuckles of his right hand. Keith flexes his hand and watches the lines shift over his bones with the movement. Is that what it looks like on them?

“They’re real and you’ll find them just like I did.”

Keith smiles and looks up only to find Shiro staring at Allura with more love than Keith has ever seen expressed on a human being’s face before. He swallows and strokes the inside of his wrist, where that small heart was all those years ago, and he knows that all the waiting will be worth it.

He’s in college when he hears people complaining about how clumsy their soulmates are. ‘Seriously I don’t get hurt half as much as they do. It’s awful having people worry about me all the time.’

He’s almost twenty-one and that aspect has never occurred to him before. He wonders how his soulmate feels about him. He definitely had a rough time for a while there and he distinctly remembers more than one black eye. Were they annoyed with him? Surely that had been hard to explain. 

Most of the scars on his body are his own and he wonders about what that’s like for them.

They get the odd scrape or bruise, they stub their toes at least once a month, and sometimes they get burns on their fingers, but, honestly, who doesn’t do that? They’re not clumsy and, so far, they really haven’t had any major injuries.

As far as soulmates go, Keith thinks, he really can’t complain.

And then the bruises start showing up.

At first it’s only a couple, mildly concerning in the fact that they look pretty bad on Keith and he can only imagine what they actually look like on them, but easily overlooked. Everyone gets really gnarly bruises sometimes.

“You’ve had that bruise for a long time now, Keith. Is it yours?”

Keith is visiting Shiro for the weekend, sprawled out on his couch and blatantly ignoring his homework in an old pair of shorts that really don’t fit him anymore. He looks down at his thigh though he really doesn’t have to; he knows the one Shiro’s talking about.

“No it’s theirs. It’s probably just really deep and taking a while to heal.”

Shiro nods but sends him concerned glances occasionally the rest of the weekend. Keith ignores them and promptly forgets about it when he goes back to college.

But then they keep coming. And they don’t go away.

His legs look awful, covered in numerous, colorful, large bruises and a few cuts. He’d be concerned for his health if he didn’t know they weren’t his and that thought sends ice cold guilt spiking through him because now he’s concerned for their health.

He’s sitting at his desk working on an essay one evening when a deep purple and blue bruise flowers across the knuckles of his left hand, faster than usual and taking up more space than any not broken bone has right to.

He panics. He paces across his dorm and tries to think of a way to help but he can’t come up with anything to do and he feels. So. Useless.

Are they okay?

Are they safe?

He doesn’t finish his essay. He doesn’t even sleep. He spends the next two days feeling anxious and worried and sick and eventually it catches up to him and he crashes in his dorm in the middle of the day. He wakes up sometime after noon the next day only to find more bruises have shown up and he stares at them numbly.

These injuries that used to be so reassuring, used to bring comfort to him, now just make him feel sick with dread.

He can’t help them.

A few days later his nose starts bleeding for no reason. He skips out on all of his afternoon classes to hide in his dorm, trying to make it stop and trying to get himself under control. 

You’re not supposed to bleed when your soulmate does, but he knows this isn’t his nosebleed the same way he can tell that these bruises aren’t his- the same way he can tell this bone deep weariness isn’t his either.

Then he starts getting needle pricks in his arms. Two in one elbow and one in the other and multiple little stab marks in his hands and he doesn’t even think when he grabs his phone.

IVs, his mind supplies dimly while he’s waiting for Shiro to pick up.

“Hey what’s up, Keith?”

“Shiro I… I think my soulmate is dying.” It takes until just then for it to crash into him, what he’d been worried about for the past week but blatantly ignoring. As soon as the words leave his mouth the crying is uncontrollable. “They’re dying, Shiro, and I can’t do anything!”

Shiro says something but Keith can’t hear him, can’t really hear anything anymore but the words flooding his head.

They’re dying.

Over and over and over.

And then Shiro is there with Allura, and Keith can’t even bother to try to figure out how fast they must have driven to get there so quickly when they’re both staring at him with broken, pitying faces and he knows.

He knows how bad he looks- covered in bruises that aren’t his, and curled against the edge of his bed, tears streaming down his face, nose running, and eyes red. He knows he probably looks pathetic but he doesn’t care because then they’re both hugging him and petting his hair and saying soothing words that he doesn’t listen to- probably wouldn’t believe even if he did. And eventually, somehow, he falls asleep.

When he wakes up they’re both still there, quietly talking over his head. He doesn’t want to know what they’re saying so he sits up and rubs his eyes, putting an immediate halt to their conversation. They’re all silent for a long moment until Allura speaks.

“Good morning, Keith,” she says softly.

Keith looks at her and nods but doesn’t feel up to talking. He looks at his hands. There’s a few more needle pricks there and bruises blossoming out from every puncture mark.

“I’m going to go get breakfast for us, alright?”

He nods again. He’s not sure he feels like eating but he figures this is her way of letting them have a brother moment alone.

She leaves and Keith refuses to look at Shiro even when he finally speaks.

“Keith… I can’t pretend to know what… what this is like for you. I don’t really have a lot of personal experience to draw from, but I am here for you. So’s Allura. And Mom and Dad are only a phone call away and… and you just have to trust that they’ll be okay.”

Keith feels like crying again. He feels a headache settling in behind his eyes and his breathing is shaky.

“You’ve been through some pretty bad stuff too and they were probably really worried about you, and you made it out okay. You just have to have the same faith in them that I know they had in you.”

“That was a car crash, Shiro, it’s not the same!” he spits. “I survived a car crash and some fights between teenagers not-” he gestures vaguely at his bruised legs with his bruised arms, “-whatever the fuck this is!”

“Keith-”

“No! It’s different, Shiro, you know it is!” Keith rips out of the comforting arm Shiro has around his shoulders and stands up, turning to look down at his brother. “People survive what I lived through every day. I don’t even know-,” he runs a hand through his hair, agitated. “Whatever this is, it’s different! They could die! They could-” his voice cracks and he gives up talking, opting instead to try to get his breathing under control and blatantly ignore the tears flooding from his eyes. He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “This is the only thing- They are the only thing I’ve had through my whole life. This person that I’ve never met is the only thing that has been in my life for everything and I can’t- I can’t lose them, Shiro... I can’t.”

“You won’t,” Shiro stands up too and reaches for one of his arms. He lightly traces over the circular almost there punctures. “These marks… They’re from an IV. They all are. Wherever they are, they’re getting help. Those doctors will do everything they can to save them, Keith, I promise. It’s gonna be scary for a bit, for both of you, but you have to be strong. They’re gonna be okay. I don’t believe for a second that life would do that to you, Keith. You’re due for some good and it’ll come. Just hang on through this okay? You won’t lose them.”

Keith nods because he’s not sure what else to do. He feels more calm now but he’s still worried. He doesn’t think he’ll stop being worried until he meets his soulmate and sees them alive and well but he has no clue when that will be. So he settles for nodding. “Thanks, Shiro… I’m gonna take a shower before Allura gets back.”

“Okay. I’m out here if you need anything.”

Keith nods again and shuffles to his bathroom. He pulls his shirt over his head and gives himself a once over, looking for new bruises. It used to be something he only did at night right before bed but over the course of the last few weeks he found himself checking at least twice a day. The relief that washes over him at finding no new wounds almost makes him cry but he takes a few deep breaths and then gets in the shower.

The hot water eases the tension in his neck and the line of his shoulders. The steam makes his face feel cleaner, less caked with dried tears and he doesn’t realize how gross and sweaty he is until it washes off of him. Keith usually isn’t one for taking long showers but this time he lingers. The sound of the water running and the constant feel of it rushing over his skin is soothing and lulls him into a pleasant state of numbness, different from the one brought on by his earlier panic.

By the time he’s done, Allura is back with breakfast and Shiro throws an old t-shirt and a pair of jeans through the door to save his fiance from the sight of his naked younger brother. Keith emerges with a cloud of steam from the bathroom, his clothes sticking to his skin uncomfortably, but he’s clean and he can’t deny that he does feel a little better.

Allura, the saint, has returned with several different kinds of food. There’s fruit and bagels and yogurt and a few other healthy things and then there’s all the classic greasy diner dishes you’d expect for breakfast; sausage, bacon, eggs three different ways, hash browns, excessively buttered toast, as well as lots and lots of coffee, and then there’s a box of donuts with more types and flavors than Keith ever thought about. He isn’t entirely sure how she managed to fit this much food in his dorm honestly.

“I didn’t know what you were feeling up for so I got a variety.”

Keith doesn’t cry- he really doesn’t- but he does give her a watery smile. “Thanks.” He’s still not sure he feels like eating but he grabs a bagel and a couple pieces of bacon and sits on his bed. As soon as he takes one bite though he realizes he’s starving and now that he thinks about it he doesn’t think he ate yesterday. He finds himself grabbing seconds… and thirds.

Shiro and Allura don’t make him talk, and he appreciates that. They fill the silence with idle chatter about work and movies and little things they need to fix around their house and every now and then, Keith will throw in his input. It’s nice.

Between the three of them, somehow, they manage to finish almost all of the food, and what is left is quickly packed away in Keith’s mini fridge to be eaten later. They spend the day playing video games and cards and watching movies and Keith knows he should be in class but he really doesn’t care. It’s been a while since he’s taken a day off and he knows if he doesn’t have someone immediately engaging his attention his mind will wander and he doesn’t want that right now. 

No new injuries have shown up and he takes it as a good sign.

Keith doesn’t ask how long they’re planning on staying but at ten o’clock Shiro starts digging in Keith’s closet for extra blankets. 

“Considering the fact that you never have company I’m surprised at how well equipped you are for guests.” He hands Allura a blanket and throws a pillow on the couch for her and then starts setting his own area out on the floor in front of it.

“You guys can take the bed,” Keith shifts awkwardly on his feet. “I don’t mind taking the couch.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow at him and Allura pointedly sits on the couch. “Keith it’s your bed. I’ve slept on couches before.”

“We’re the ones crashing here. Besides, no offense, you look like you haven’t slept in a month. Sleep in the bed.”

Keith nods and puts up no further argument. He feels like he could sleep for a week but he waits until Shiro and Allura are asleep and then he digs his notebook out from the pile on his nightstand. 

The past few entries are all written in his own worried scrawl- vague variations of the same question over and over.

Are you alright?

He hesitates for a moment, pen poised over the next line.

There’s a shuffling noise behind him, a muffled thump and a noise that sounds suspiciously like a groan of pain from Shiro. Keith turns around to find that Allura has rolled off the couch and landed on his conveniently placed brother. 

Keith raises an eyebrow at him and Shiro shakes his head, an expression of exasperated fondness on his face before he reaches up and pulls the blanket off the couch and over his still sleeping fiance. He’s asleep again in moments.

Keith watches them a moment longer. The scene doesn’t make him bitter, though he thinks if the circumstances were different it might, but it does make him feel sad. He turns back around and finally writes.

September 13th- 20 years old. I hope you’re okay. I can’t wait to meet you.

The next morning there are a few new scars on his arms but he manages to stay calm. IVs need redone sometimes. He does look at the particularly garish new bruises with sympathy though.

Breakfast is a much less extravagant affair this morning: cold cereal and whatever leftovers they didn’t eat for dinner last night. They go for a walk to a nearby park after they eat and they stay out for a few hours. 

Keith is hyper aware of everything he does, careful not to hurt himself at all. He doesn’t want any of his injuries to interfere with his soulmate’s and he doesn’t know if they can tell what bruises belong to them and which ones are his. He doesn’t want to make things harder for the doctors.

They completely skip lunch and opt to stop by an ice cream shop on the way back to Keith’s dorm instead.

“It’s so hot,” Allura groans. They’re sitting at a table on the outside patio and their ice cream’s almost melting too fast for them to eat. “Isn’t it supposed to be cooling off for fall soon?”

“Yeah but it’s nice to be outside,” Keith replies. He digs his spoon around in his bowl, brow furrowing. “I’ve been locked in my dorm for most of the last few weeks.”

Shiro nods at that. “True. But you’re wearing all black and you look like you’re overheating.”

Keith ignores the comment and goes for safer territory. “Have you looked for a dress yet, Allura?”

Allura blinks at him for a moment before she catches up with his turn in conversation. “Not yet. I was supposed to go with Shay this weekend actually but her boyfriend had a family emergency and she wants to be there for him which I completely understand.”

Keith nods. Of course she understands; she’s doing the same thing.

“Don’t just ignore my concern for your health, Keith!” Shiro says in mock outrage.

“Shiro, I’m planning your wedding. No time to worry about frivolous things like heat stroke.”

Shiro rolls his eyes and Allura laughs and they spend the next hour talking about wedding plans. They haven’t picked a date yet but they have almost settled on the colors.

“For the dress I think I want something sleek and flowing? Maybe a trumpet skirt.”

Keith pretends he knows what that is. She sees through him though and helpfully draws a rough sketch on a napkin.

“Oh that’s actually really pretty,” he agrees. He’s no fashion expert, a fact that anyone who’s seen him would agree with, but he can tell when something looks nice and that dress would definitely be beautiful on Allura.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but Keith is rig-”

“Shiro no!! It’s bad luck!!” Allura flails to cover up the napkin and simultaneously make Shiro look away and that is the condensed version of how Shiro ends up with the melted leftovers of Allura’s sundae all over his face.

“It’s not even the actual dress,” he grumbles, using what’s probably his seventh napkin in an attempt to rid is face of the sticky syrupy mess.

Keith and Allura are laughing too hard to even reply.

When they finally make it back to Keith’s dorm Shiro heads for the shower and Allura wheedles her way into making Keith let her paint his nails. It’s strangely relaxing and Keith wonders if this is what having a sister would have been like.

He apparently says this out loud.

“Well I mean I am going to be your sister-in-law so yes? This is what it’s gonna be like. Next time I’ll bring face masks, it’ll be great.”

Keith isn’t sure if that sounds fun or awful but he accepts his fate. “Okay.”

Shiro emerges and raises a bemused eyebrow at the scene but when Allura finishes with Keith and turns to him with a simple command of “Hands” he sits down and spreads his hands out in front of him. There’s a bruise on the side of his wrist, on both of their wrists, and Keith wonders whose it actually is.

When she’s done with Shiro, Allura hands Keith the bottle and tells him to paint hers. He’s completely horrible at it and Allura won’t even let him touch her second hand, opting to make Shiro do it instead. He doesn’t do much better.

“You two are ridiculous,” she grumbles inspecting the unsteady, all over, paint. Shiro had gone the extra mile and tried to make little designs but they almost make it worse.

While they bicker over nail painting and what movie to watch, Keith gets up to make dinner which consists of water boiled by his electric kettle, poured over instant noodles and accompanied by a side of probably stale potato chips.

“I do not miss being a college student,” Shiro muses, reaching into the bag of chips.

Allura hums her agreement.

They end up watching bad reruns of reality television until late and Allura doesn’t even bother with the couch tonight.

Keith has trouble sleeping and sometime after midnight he watches as a new scar appears on his hand. Bloodwork maybe? This late at night? He writes the question down in his book and then finally falls asleep.

Shiro and Allura leave the next morning.

“Call me. I’m serious.” Shiro claps a hand on his shoulder. “Any time you need to talk.”

Keith nods and then Allura hugs him tightly. “Shiro’s not the only one with a phone. I’m here too, okay?”

“Okay,” Keith smiles at her.

When they’re gone he cleans up- puts his laundry in a pile to be dealt with later, washes the dishes from last night, vacuums up potato chip crumbs. After that he gets caught up on homework and emails his teachers to ask what he missed the last two days. It’s saturday so if they respond quickly he should be able to get back to speed by Monday, but after that he really doesn’t have anything to do.

He opts to take a shower. He shuffles into his bathroom, pulls his shirt over his head but then freezes when he sees himself in the mirror. 

On the right side of his chest there are spots. Six spots. Six spots, in varying sizes that look at lot like the IV spots on his arms, which now look even more bruised.

“What the fuck?” he whispers, leaning closer to the mirror to get a better look. One of the spots is more of a cut, a little ways up his neck and then, just past his collar bone, there’s a bigger spot, perfectly round and then off to either side and a little further down from that, two smaller spots on each side. “What the fuck??”

He grabs his phone and takes a picture, sending it to Shiro.

To: Shiro ‘Okay, believe it or not, I’m actually trying not to panic about every little thing, and it’s worth noting that some of the bruises actually do look a little bit better today but… /What the fuck????/’

He turns around to check for any other new developments and finds a small black spot on the back of his right hip, just above the waistband of his boxers.

“What the fuck!?” He storms out of his bathroom and flips his notebook open.

September 15th- Do you have a fucking hole in your hip???? When did that get there???

Writing the question out, surprisingly, gives him some amount of satisfaction, however disappointed he may be about not immediately getting an answer and he checks his phone for Shiro’s reply.

From Shiro: Some of the bruises are better?? Keith that’s great!

Keith rolls his eyes.

To Shiro: Did you miss the part where they have holes in their chest now?

From Shiro: It’s to help them. You said you’re trying to stay calm, now try to stay optimistic. Allura is very excited for you by the way.

Keith can’t argue with that so he replies with a quick ‘thanks,’ puts his phone down and takes a shower.

When he’s out he checks his email to find that his professors are all very understanding and he’s excused from most of what he’s missed. The assignments he has to make up are quick and simple and he has half of them done by the end of the night- the other half can be finished no problem sometime tomorrow.

Midnight rolls by and Keith watches his hands for new marks but nothing appears. Time tables are hectic in hospitals though so he tells himself not to stress and goes to sleep.

There’s nothing new the next morning. 

Keith doesn’t know if he should be worried but most of the bruises look like they’ve improved so he tells himself to calm down.

There aren’t any new marks the next day either.

Or the day after that.

Keith has no way of knowing anything about his soulmate’s condition except the steady improvement of the bruises and that, once a week, the skin around the scars on his chest gets scratchy and red. It looks painful.

A few weeks later Keith notices a bruise on his toe.

They stubbed their toe.

It’s the first injury in two months that hasn’t sent Keith into immediate panic and worry. He even smiles a little bit.

October 28th- 20 years old. Glad to see you’re still keeping up with your normal problems.

Two days after that he finds another black spot on the back of his hip, just under the first one.

October 30th- 20 years old. Do you have another hole in your hip??

After that, for a long time, there’s nothing. He’s still got some leftover bruising from IVs on one arm and the skin on his chest sticks to it’s weekly irritation schedule but there aren’t any new injuries.

It’s a nice calm change of pace compared to what he’d gotten used to in the last three months.

Shiro and Allura are ecstatic. They buy him a cake and they promise that when he finds his soulmate they’ll buy one for them too, with a proper message instead of ‘My soulmate survived the mystery plague’ scrawled on top in red icing. It’s a delicious cake though.

A few months later he finds another spot on his hip, right next to the first one.

March 5th- 20 years old. Really? Another? Why? What are these for?

Two weeks later he’s sitting in class when he sees it. There’s a weird bruise on his wrist, but it’s one he’s seen before. He stares at it with baited breath until finally, finally, the other half of the heart shows up.

Keith wants to scream, but they’re taking a test right now. It takes all he has to focus on the papers in front of him. He wonders what brought this on. It’s only ever happened one other time, right after a really bad fight and he clearly hasn’t just been hurt so- and then he wants to slam his head on his desk. He’s been so careful not to get hurt, so determined to not hinder whatever they were going through in any way, that he hasn’t gotten hurt in months. He’s given no sign that he’s alive in at least six months and he knows that if it were reversed he’d be ripping his hair out with worry.

With renewed determination, he buzzes through the last page of his test and hurries back to his dorm, grateful that he doesn’t have any classes for the rest of the day. When he gets there he dumps his bag and throws himself on his bed, mind whirling with just how he can let his soulmate know that he’s still okay.

Finally he settle on something. He’s not sure how well it will work but he flicks his wrist repeatedly in one spot until he literally can’t feel his finger or the area anymore, and then he changes angles slightly and does it again. He’s left with a very rough, but still very obvious, heart.

March 19th- 20 years old. I’m glad you’re okay.

Two months later the scars on his chest shrink a little, accompanied by a few new marks that are probably stitches.

Keith takes a picture and sends it to Shiro.

Shiro replies with a slightly blurry selfie featuring him and Allura with very big smiles and enthusiastic thumbs up.

The skin of his chest is almost normal after that. Some of the roughness is still there, like a strange scar but, he hopes, his soulmate is back to normal now.

He writes in his book.

May 25th- 20 years old. I’m so proud of you. I really can’t wait to meet you.

One month later he finds himself on a college campus a few towns over to meet Allura’s Godfather, a man by the name of Coran, to discuss wedding things. Oh- and an internship. 

He’s standing in the middle of a courtyard, hopelessly lost and trying to figure out which way the crudely drawn map Shiro drew him is supposed to be held when he feels every nerve in his body come alive. Slowly he looks up and turns to see a boy- the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen- standing there and he knows.

This is his soulmate. 

This is his soulmate.

He can tell by the sudden energy charging the air, the same way he can tell what bruises are and aren’t his- the same way he could tell when they finally started feeling better after whatever the fuck they went through.

He can tell.

And judging by the way the guy slowly turns and looks at him, he can tell too.

Keith has waited his whole life for this moment- fifteen years to be exact- and now, at twenty-one, Keith is finally meeting his soulmate and suddenly every feeling he’s ever felt is boiling inside him, competing for a spot at the surface. Every doubt, every worry, every ‘please God let them like me’ is right there staring him in the face and he can’t figure out what to do.

And they’re still staring at him.

“You.” Keith marches forward.

The guy’s eyes widen, almost comically and he takes several steps backwards but he’s no match against Keith’s relentless march forwards. The guy backs into a support column behind him and Keith stops right in front of him, grabs a handful of his shirt and-

Okay this is definitely not what he meant to do, not what he should have done even if he had meant to, and there goes that first impression, but his mind had been throwing a hundred different options at him and he couldn’t pick one because they were all questions he had to ask- things he had to say, but a common goal was ‘just get your hands on him somehow, just make sure he’s real and here and alive’ and okay he’s accomplished that bit. Might as well just go with what he’s given himself.

“You,” he says again. “What the fuck was this about!?” He yanks the collar of his shirt down and sideways a bit, exposing scars he’s long since memorized. “What. The everloving. Fuck.”

The guy gapes at him for a moment and Keith’s gaze falls to the right side of his chest, covered by fabric sure, but he knows what’s there. 

He’s probably breaking a thousand barriers in social etiquette and crossing several lines in the ‘What’s Appropriate to do when You’ve Just Met Your Soulmate’ book, but he doesn’t care and the guy apparently is of a similar mindset because he reaches up and pulls the fabric aside to reveal matching scars. They’re still more pronounced on him and Keith resists the urge to trace over them.

“What happened?” he ignores how raw his voice suddenly sounds.

“I had Leukemia.” 

Keith is conflicted over how nice his voice sounds and how horrible those words are. “Are… Are you…?” Keith can’t finish his sentence, doesn’t even know what he would say even if he could.

“I’m in remission. Have been for three months.”

Keith nods dumbly. He can feel tears building behind his eyes, all of the emotions from the last year finally making sense and having justification, all of the exhilaration of finally- finally- meeting his soulmate overwhelming him.

“You’re okay,” he says softly, and then, because it’s true and he can, he says it again a little louder. “You’re okay and you’re alive. You’re…”

“Lance,” the guy smiles, tears shining in his own eyes. “I’m Lance.”

Keith laughs and eases his grip on Lance’s shirt. He doesn’t move away though, doesn’t even break contact. “I’m Keith.”

“Keith,” he grins- the nicest grin Keith has ever seen- “I’ve been waiting to meet you a long time.” He takes Keith’s hand from his chest and laces their fingers together in the space between them. “I think it’s about time I’m due for some good.”

“Me too.” Keith surges forward, wrapping his arms around Lance and burying his face in Lance’s neck. “...Me too.”

 

\-----

 

Lance, as it turns out, is A) in Coran’s class, B) the family emergency that Shay’s boyfriend had and C) a very enthusiastic selfie taker.

Keith blows up Shiro and Allura’s phones with at least five pictures each, amidst a bunch of screaming and exclamation points and happy faces.

They respond just as enthusiastically.

Maybe even more so.

**Author's Note:**

> *Writes 18 page Klance fic but doesn't introduce Lance until page 16*
> 
> Okay. There's that. I really hope you guys liked this.
> 
> This was just supposed to be the part where Keith notices all of the bruises and then him worrying and then finding and confronting Lance and the Shallura was supposed to just be in the background but I'm actually really happy with how both of those things didn't happen.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> *EDIT*  
> Oh my goodness the feedback on this has been overwhelmingly positive and I can't thank you guys enough. It really means the world to me. Now I'm gonna do something that I usually try not to do with my notes and get super personal here for a second.  
> I'm always a little anxious when I post a fic but I was downright nervous about this one.  
> I wrote this as a way of coping with my own Leukemia. It took me a long time to be able to finish it and I had to stop a few times to calm down. This is from Keith's point of view because at the time I felt emotionally and mentally incapable of writing about Lance's situation from an inside point of view. I've only been in remission for a month and am still finishing up treatment so it's all still very fresh for me. So for those of you wondering if I will ever write Lance's side of this (which is honestly an honor to me that you would want to read it) I can't promise that I'll be able to do it any time soon.  
> That being said I am in the middle of writing a sequel for this and I do have a third part planned, both still from Keith's point of view. If I feel like I can manage it (and if you're not sick of this au by the time the other two parts are done ^_^') I'll try give Lance's point of view a shot.  
> Again it really means a lot to me that you all have had such positive things to say about this fic, I can't thank you enough.


End file.
